


Catch Me I’m Falling

by HarpforHim



Series: In a Angst-Ridden Galaxy Far, Far Away... Whumptober 2020 [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (wow there are a ton of Obi-Wan tags! XD), Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Angst, CC-2224 | Cody is So Done, Don’t overwork this poor child, Exhaustion, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, No. 23, Obi-Wan Collapses, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Parental Mace Windu, Protective CC-2224 | Cody, Whumptober 2020, Worried CC-2224 | Cody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27163333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarpforHim/pseuds/HarpforHim
Summary: He could remember feeling this bad only once before in his entire life...Ten years ago, young Knight Kenobi thought himself to be invicible. Now, during the height of the Clone Wars, General Kenobi has slipped back into the same pattern of thinking, a pattern that threatens to knock him out cold if he isn’t careful...But Obi-Wan is simply terrible at saying “no.”Written for the Whumptober Prompt “Exhaustion.”
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano
Series: In a Angst-Ridden Galaxy Far, Far Away... Whumptober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967068
Comments: 14
Kudos: 302





	Catch Me I’m Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober Day 23! And I’ve hopped back on the Obi-Wan train! XD
> 
> The title for this fic was taken from the Next to Normal song of the same name. ;)

He could remember feeling this bad only one other time in his life: when Anakin was eleven and they'd fallen into the roughest patch in their relationship. He'd worn himself into the ground that year, trying to be everything for everyone—to be Qui-Gon for Anakin; the perfect Jedi Knight for the Council so they wouldn't take the boy away from him; an Always-There-For-You-Friend for Siri during her unusually rocky relationship with Master Gallia; and even substitute teacher for several saber classes for Masters who needed a quick, last minute replacement.

Because throughout his entire life, Qui-Gon and Anakin had really been the only two people he'd ever been able to say no to—and even then, Anakin had this strange way of twisting his heart so as to make him bend the rules for the boy.

Now, two years into the Clone Wars—the war he'd never asked to fight, and yet here he was acting the part of Dutiful Jedi turned Soldier—he found the same feeling stinging his veins and tugging at his mind.

General, Council Member, and Jedi Master were merely his official occupations. When he wasn't off trying to save the galaxy with his troops or debating the skewed politics of the Galactic Senate with the Council, Obi-Wan took on more than a dozen other titles.

Grandmaster.

Friend.

Brother.

Teacher.

The Great Negotiator (Force, how he hated that one…)

Amateur Medic.

Therapist.

Writer (because who else was going to type up all Anakin's mission reports? Honestly, he was as bad as Qui-Gon…)

Holonet Celebrity.

And the list goes on.

Often, he wished it didn't. Some days, he would long for the days when he was simply Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Padawan.

But those days had long since passed into distant memory.

As he stared out the _Negotiator's_ viewscreen, watching the blurry clusters of stars zoom past, Obi-Wan resisted the urge to pull at his hair. Perhaps if he tugged hard enough, he could pull his headache right out and toss it to the side.

"General?" Cody's voice sounded unusually high-pitched, but Obi-Wan blamed this on the headache.

Plastering a smile on his face, the Jedi Master turned. "Hello, Cody. Is our ETA still on schedule?"

"Yes, sir. Actually, we're set to pull in a few minutes early."

At last, something good. Maybe he could use those few extra minutes to rest his feet before his mission debrief with the Council…

"Wonderful," he replied in what he hoped was a cheery voice. The look on Cody's face told him it'd fallen quite flat, but thankfully not to a suspicious level.

 _I don't need anyone else crawling up my back with complaints about my health and well-being,_ he thought, recalling Anakin's choice words before their separate departures.

It was more of the same. Take care of yourself and get some rest, or else I'll Force push you into the Halls of Healing.

_Yes… no thank you, Anakin._

"Uh, sir?"

Obi-Wan blinked and it took him a moment to realize he'd zoned out.

"Are you all right?"

"Of course, Cody. I was simply lost in thought. Could you repeat that?"

"I was just asking if there was anything else you needed."

_A painkiller, a blanket, and a bed, thank you._

"No, Cody, I'm fine. Thank you."

A nod, followed by an "If you say so, sir," and Cody was gone, leaving Obi-Wan to himself for the remainder of the journey.

They docked in the bustling Coruscant sky a few minutes early, just like Cody said they would, and after aiding in the organization of their departure, Obi-Wan found himself in a gunship on its way to the GAR military base below. From there, he would take a speeder to the Temple.

But first, he had his men to see to. It had been a rough couple of weeks and the 212th had come out with more losses than necessary. Of course, they'd won the day in the end, but at what cost?

After a few words of praise and condolence, depending on the trooper, Obi-Wan retreated to the main hangar in search of a speeder.

"General?" And there was Cody again, his voice a twinge more concerned than Obi-Wan would've liked it to be.

He kept his back turned until he was certain his General face was firmly in place. "Yes, Cody? Are all the men settling back in well?"

An affirmative nod. "Of course, sir."

Then, silence, the kind Obi-Wan had come to despise. The kind that meant someone wanted to tell him something they knew he wouldn't like—and it was usually about _him._

"Sir, if I may speak freely…"

Obi-Wan's eyes softened. "Always, Cody."

"Sir… Are you all right?"

_Am I that obvious?_

"I only ask," Cody continued, "because you were… swaying a bit back there."

Obi-Wan forced an amused smile. "Swaying?"

"Only slightly, sir, but…"

With a gentle hand, he reached out and clapped his commander on the shoulder. "Thank you for your concern. I believe I'm just a bit tired."

And Obi-Wan couldn't tell if Cody's smile was more sad or amused. "Permission to request that you get some rest, sir?"

"Permission denied." Here, Obi-Wan felt the vestiges of a genuine smile turn his lips. "Because I was already planning on doing just that."

"Just make sure you do, sir."

"I will, Cody, don't worry."

But as Obi-Wan slid into the nearest unoccupied speeder, he knew all-too-well that Cody _would_ worry.

And that it would be a long time before he got that promised moment of rest.

Because of their early arrival, Obi-Wan was seated in his council chair before any of his fellow council members were set to convene. His headache, he realized with a grimace, was quickly morphing into a migraine.

_Wonderful._

Tempted as he was to close his eyes for just a few seconds, he feared he might fall asleep that way, and he didn't want to risk Master Yoda walking in on such a disrespectful sight.

Still…

He felt his eyes flutter once. Twice.

"Obi-Wan!" Depa Billaba's voice never failed to warm him. His eyes shot back open and he greeted her with a smile. "How good to have you back with us at last."

"It's good to see you as well, Depa," he replied, seeing no need for formality when it was just the two of them.

Next, Mace Windu appeared, trailing close behind his former Padawan. Obi-Wan nodded at the revered Master, wondering how _he_ ever got the coveted seat among so many Jedi Greats.

"I trust your trip home was uneventful," Mace asked, a slight hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Very, thank goodness," Obi-Wan replied, hoping he didn't sound as exhausted as he felt.

"Good. Perhaps Skywalker will share your luck on his return trip tomorrow."

Ah yes, Anakin. The thought that his former apprentice and best friend was coming home to the Temple after such an extended military campaign eased a bit of his fatigue. It seemed an age since he'd last spoken with his friend face to face.

"That is always the hope," Obi-Wan replied, "however, I highly doubt it."

There was a moment of silence as the three Jedi Masters pictured all the ways the wild Knight could possibly be delayed in his return.

A brief wave of nausea assaulted Obi-Wan and he had to fight to remain upright, even while sitting in his comfy chair.

"Obi-Wan?" Depa's voice was concerned, yet almost disbelieving, as if she wasn't entirely sure she'd seen what she thought she had. "Are you all right?"

This earned a suspicious glare from Mace and Obi-Wan forced himself _not_ to roll his eyes.

"Yes, Depa, I'm perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern, but—"

He cut himself off short of whatever excuse he'd been about to make—honestly, he hadn't really thought that far ahead—because the rest of the Council had begun to file into the chamber.

_Finally! Let's get this over with._

One last look from Mace almost made him squirm in his chair. The Jedi Master was the one who knew him the best out of the entire Council, which meant he could often see past Obi-Wan's excuses.

 _Often doesn't mean always,_ he thought with resolve as he straightened in his chair, fully prepared to do whatever it took to get through the meeting without another blasted person asking if he was all right.

_Come now, just take care of yourselves and leave me be!_

Obi-Wan started things off with his own mission debrief, giving the shortest version of the full story. Thankfully, he wasn't met with very much debate—and oh! How the Council loved to debate even the simplest of things.

And then, came the part he was dreading the most: suffering through the remaining items on the docket, which consisted of four other mission debriefs, two mission briefs, and a discussion concerning the long term preservation of the Jedi Order throughout the course of the war.

_Oh, joy._

While he would never admit it aloud, not even to himself, he was grateful for the distraction his wandering mind gave him. If he played the silent council member that afternoon, well, it would be the first time. Surely, he was owed his chance to sit on the sidelines, having been so actively involved up until this point.

Because this would be over soon and tomorrow he could see Anakin.

 _Yes…_ He simply had to make it through the rest of the day and night, then he could see his brother and everything would be all right again. Somehow…

Cody's concerned face flashed across his mind and he wondered briefly if the commander was getting some of the rest he was always prescribing to everyone else.

And Ahsoka, who was on leave in the Temple in order to catch up on her studies, which had suffered greatly during the war.

 _A sixteen-year-old shouldn't have to think about juggling her life as a student and her career as a soldier._ He shook his head, effectively worsening his nausea. _Children should not_ _ **have**_ _careers as soldiers, in my opinion._

 _You're one to talk,_ a tiny voice in the back of his head scolded. _Have you so easily forgotten Melida/Dann?_

 _Never._ Then, pushing away the voice that suspiciously resembled his thirteen-year-old self, Obi-Wan blinked hard. If his brain had nothing good to say to him, he might as well _try_ to pay attention to the meeting.

Perhaps tuning back in was a mistake—or else the mistake lay in tuning out in the first place—because the moment his vision ceased its obnoxious swimming, he realized every eye was fixed on him.

And that was a _lot_ of eyes.

"Master Kenobi?" Shaak Ti's holographic blue form exuded subtle concern.

"I'm… sorry," Obi-Wan heard himself saying, though the swimming had returned and he found it difficult to focus again. He cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Masters, I…" _Was zoning out? Found your discussion quite dull and didn't think it worth my time?_ No, there was no easy way out of this one. "I'm sorry, I have no excuse. What was the question?"

"There's always an excuse," Ki Adi Mundi said, a tinge of irritation lacing his voice.

"Not this time, there isn't." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it and now there was no going back. He was very aware of his status as the youngest member of the Council, and that statement just _danced_ along the fine line of impertinence.

It was Mace who came to his rescue, the worried suspicion still a faint glimmer in his dark eyes. "The 110th just lost their general and commander. The Council has been tasked with finding them a new leader."

Obi-Wan nodded, his mind slowly grinding into action.

"The Order is already short on equipped war leaders as it is," Depa added gently. "If a new general cannot be found, the troops will be integrated into other battalions."

"I would suggest not separating them," he replied with as much thoughtfulness as he could muster. "Many of these soldiers form bonds with their fellow brothers. Separating them might mean tearing brother from brother, and if I've learned anything from my Commander, as I hope you all have as well, this is something we should work to prevent, if not for them, than for the sake of the war itself."

"That sounds like a project that could take a considerable amount of time," Kit Fisto mused, earning several affirmative nods.

"Is this something you would be willing to work on, Master Kenobi?" Mundi inquired and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to groan. Honestly, it was all so predictable. "Since it was _your_ idea."

"I don't think—" Mace began, but Obi-Wan was determined to get this meeting over with, no matter the cost. He would deal with the results later on, when he could think better; when his head was clear.

When he could be _alone_.

"If it means no one will be separated, I'll take on the project," he declared "I'm certain it's something Anakin and Ahsoka can help me with as well."

"Obi-Wan, are you sure you can take on another project?"

He glanced at Mace, willing himself not to break eye contact like a guilty child. "Why shouldn't I?" _All my other lovely projects are beginning to get lonely…_

This quip remained in his mind, thankfully, and Yoda effectively closed the discussion.

As all the council members took their leave, Obi-Wan found he couldn't get out of his chair fast enough, let alone the room itself.

The sudden weight on his shoulder was hardly a surprise, neither was the sight of Mace's worried face.

"I couldn't help but notice you were a little… distracted back there."

 _And here we go._ "Honestly, Master," he began, feeling like a young Padawan again, "I'm just a bit tired and found it difficult to focus. It won't happen again, I can assure you."

"Oh, I don't doubt it." Mace's smile didn't reach his eyes. "But you have to admit, that was very unusual for you."

_Am I supposed to remain in a constant state of perfection?_

A small shrug was all the reply he had.

"And taking on another project? How many is that now?"

"Well, I didn't exactly _ask_ for any of the others."

"And you _did_ ask for this one?"

Obi-Wan forced a light chuckle. "I suppose so."

"Obi-Wan…"

Breathing became difficult and Obi-Wan was fighting to stay upright. He needed to get back to his room, to his bed. To his tea. Brushing off an esteemed Master was certainly more up Anakin's alley than his own, but it was either that or make a complete fool of himself when he inevitably collapsed in the halls.

"Master," he began hastily, "I'm sorry, but I've just returned and who knows how long it will be before the 212th ships out again. If you don't mind terribly, I think I'll retire now."

Mace nodded, his camouflaged concern never wavering. "Get some rest."

"I will, thank you."

He could feel Mace's eyes follow him all the way down the hall. _I'm fine, I'm fine! Just leave me alone!_

Rounding the corner, he still found the feeling a difficult one to shake. But, no matter. He would be in his quarters in no time and—

"Master Kenobi!"

Ahsoka' lively voice greeted him as he approached his door.

_Right._

He was always glad to see his Grandpadawan, but it was quickly becoming harder and harder to hold himself upright and he had to resist the urge to push past her and into his room.

"Ahsoka," he greeted with a smile he hoped looked anything but sick. Because he was _not_ sick, no matter how nauseous he felt, just tired. "How are you? I trust your studies are going well?"

She nodded eagerly. "Yes, Master. They are."

Still, she seemed to be waiting for something… That's when he noticed the datapads tucked against her chest and arms.

 _Oh…_ He recalled in a rush Anakin's message to him from earlier that day.

" _Snips is having trouble with her Galactic History class. I won't be back until tomorrow. And finals are at nine in the morning. Would you mind helping her catch up on her studies? Thanks, Master, you're the best!"_

Thanks, indeed…

Clearing his throat, he began typing in his key code. "I hear you have a history final tomorrow?"

At this, she deflated a little and Obi-Wan's heart went out to her.

"Why is history so hard, Master?" Her voice was small, almost defeated. Only, Ahsoka didn't _get_ defeated. Anakin had taught her well in that.

But Anakin wasn't here and Obi-Wan didn't feel he had strength enough to pull defeated Padawans out of the depths. After all, who would be there in the end to pull _him_ back out?

Instead, he smiled as the door opened, welcoming Ahsoka inside. "Well, perhaps we can look at the materials together. You might even find by the end of the night that you enjoy learning about our galaxy's history."

She scrunched her face in a way that made it clear she disagreed, but she followed him anyway, plopping on the couch and dumping her datapads on the center table.

Obi-Wan's feet moved him instinctively into the kitchen, where he put on a kettle for tea.

"What era are you struggling with?" He questioned from the counter, knowing she couldn't see him swallow a handful of mild painkillers—he'd run out of the stronger ones days ago.

"Um…" And her pause wasn't very reassuring. "All of them…?"

_Oh…_

"There's just so many dates to remember. I can barely remember Skyguy's _life day_! How do they expect me to the life days of people who have been dead for over a thousand years?"

 _You can do this. You can do this,_ he coaxed himself, leaning against the counter for support as another wave of nausea took hold of his stomach. _This is for Ahsoka. She needs you. With Anakin gone, she_ _ **needs**_ _you. She needs…_

_Anakin…_

_I need you…_

Taking a deep breath, he journeyed back into the living room, a cup of steaming tea in one hand, a mug of Corellian chocolate in the other.

"Well," he said, handing her the mug with a smile, "let's see what we can do, shall we?"

The pure relief that played over her face made the long night ahead worth it before it had even begun. So what if he didn't even make it to his bed tonight? Helping his Grandpadawan was top priority. _She_ was top priority, and he refused to see her fail—even if it meant he had to fall.

Two hours later, he still held tightly to this resolve. Three hours and more tea had gotten involved. Five hours saw him requesting that Jocasta Nu transfer several files to his own datapad in order that he might expand on Ahsoka's notes. Midnight had him covering a sleeping teenager with a blanket and kissing her forehead in a rare, delirious show of affection.

Yet, it wasn't until the new day had passed its first hour and a half that he finally made it into his room, having taken "a few moments" to finish organizing Ahsoka's study notes.

The bed wasn't as comfortable as he'd been imagining it to be. It felt wrong lying there, as if there was something urgent he needed to do that he'd forgotten about entirely. Wracking his brain for whatever it was he'd been missing hurt, spiking his migraine into its most painful stage of the day.

If it would only just go away, go _away_!

After an hour of trying to force his body into blessed unconsciousness, Obi-Wan snatched up his datapad and sighed. If he couldn't sleep, he could at least make himself useful and finish writing his and Anakin's last mission report—the one his Padawan had conveniently forgotten to file, much less actually type up.

 _It will all be over soon,_ he promised himself. _These spells never last long. You'll be back on your feet in no time._

_Yes… In no time._

More than ten years ago, he'd thought the exact same thing. It was this dangerous way of thinking that landed him sprawled on his back in the middle of the kitchen, where his then very young Padawan had discovered him and promptly called Master Windu.

Now, ten years later, Obi-Wan was certain it wouldn't happen again—surely, it _wouldn't._ Not when he had things so well under control.

Surely…

… When he awoke in the Halls of Healing, a worried Ahsoka sitting at his bedside, he realized what a mistake he'd made.

Because young Knight Obi-Wan had not been invincible, and as it turned out, neither was Master Kenobi, General of the 212th.

The Great Kriffing Negotiator.


End file.
